Kenneth Dorward wrote the episode “Frequency.” His dialog appears in italics.

Note: Here’s some background on the episode “Frequency.” The first call of the day sent Johnny & Roy to a traffic accident. Johnny discovered the victim was Drew Burke, a police officer. Johnny and Drew had been close friends but they lost touch with each other. The paramedics found him in critical condition. He later died at Rampart. Johnny broke the tragic news to Pam, Drew’s wife.

This is a fill-in-the-scene challenge. In "Frequency," what happened when Johnny and Roy returned to the station? They had a whole shift to complete.

The Rest of the Shift
Written by
MartyP

“Pam?” said Johnny quietly to the woman in front of him.

“Yes, Johnny?” asked Pam as she raised her tear-stained face and looked at him.

“Pam,” he began, tears welling up in his eyes, again. “I wish I didn’t hafta say this, but I’ve gotta get back to work.”

“I understand,” she said, forcing herself to smile at him. “Johnny, thank you so much for giving me, the...” she stopped as her voice cracked and the tears started to fall again, “news.”

“I’m so sorry, Pam,” said Johnny, hesitantly, not sure what else to say.

“I know, Johnny,” said Pam. She turned to her daughter and gave her a motherly hug. “We’ll be okay, don’t worry.”

“I’ll call you though.... Okay?” asked Johnny, wishing he could think of other help to offer.

“Please do, Johnny. I’d appreciate that,” she told him gratefully.

Johnny slowly walked out of the room and stood in the hospital corridor. Roy was standing nearby, waiting patiently. “Ready to go, Johnny?” he asked gently.

“Yeah,” said Johnny. He felt exhausted. The two men went out the Emergency Room entrance and climbed into the squad.

After a few moments of silence as the squad made its way back to the station, Roy said, “If it’s any comfort, Brackett said that the few seconds 59 needed for that radio transmission couldn’t have made the difference.”

“It isn’t,” said Johnny glumly, shaking his head. He continued, “Well, who’s gonna take care of Pam and the baby now that....

“She was so helpless, when they were first married she could barely boil water,” he reminisced, “and yet they were crazy about each other.”

Johnny glanced out the window, “ya know, he wasn’t a stranger. He was a very close friend. Maybe I should feel this way about all patients.”

Roy looked over at Johnny.

“Ya know what I was thinkin’ when I went to meet her, to tell her?”

“No, what?” asked Roy quietly.

“I... I wished you had been in my place,” he confessed, “just a weakness of character.”

“No, just indicates you’re human. That’s all,” assured Roy.

Then, he added thoughtfully, “I think it took real guts to be willing to tell Drew’s wife about her husband. Dr. Brackett coulda given her the news. Most people woulda jumped at the chance to have somebody else break the bad news. But you didn’t, ya told her.”

A few minutes later Roy said, “Johnny, I’m really sorry about Drew’s death.

“I wish there was more we coulda done,” answered Johnny in resignation.

“Johnny, you knew Drew was in bad shape when we arrived at the scene,” reminded Roy him.

“I know, I know. But, I was hoping Rampart could help him,” said Johnny. He looked at his partner and then turned his attention once again to the passing scenery.

“Dr. Brackett did all he could, Johnny,” said Roy, spying the station.

“My head knows that, Roy,” said Johnny. “I’m just... struggling with Drew’s death right now.” Johnny shrugged tiredly.

“I probably would be too, if I was in your shoes,” said Roy. He backed into the station concentrating on the side mirror as he brought the squad to a stop. He glanced over at Johnny as he opened his door and got out. Roy wanted a cup of coffee and Johnny followed him into the kitchen unthinkingly.

As Roy was pouring himself a cup, Chet came up to them and greeted them cheerfully, “Hi, guys. We just got back from a run. What have ya been up to?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” said Johnny. He abruptly walked out of the room.

“What’s with him, Roy? All I did was ask a simple question!” asked Chet, looking at Roy with raised eyebrows.

“Chet, just leave him alone. Okay?” replied Roy. He saw Mike was setting the table for lunch -- it was later than he had realized.

Several miles away, Rosie McPherson got up from her rocking chair and wandered into the kitchen. She was hungry and was trying to decide what to fix for lunch. After much deliberation, she decided a bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich would hit the spot. She found a pan and soon had her bacon sizzling on the stove. Moving to the refrigerator she opened the crisper drawer and grabbed the lettuce and a tomato and took them over to the sink to start cleaning them. She was humming “The Chattanooga Choo-Choo” while she worked.

While she was busy slicing the tomato, she forgot about the bacon. It didn’t take long to overcook. The scent of something burning caused her stop mid-tune and she glanced at the gas stove. She knew the handle of the iron skillet would be hot so she grabbed a kitchen towel to move it off the burner. She started to grasp the pan and the bacon grease spattered out and landed on her hand. “Ouch!” exclaimed Rosie, her hand jerking back causing her to drop the pan and the towel. The towel touched the blue flame and flashed. “Gotta put it out,” she told herself. “I need water.” Grabbing her pitcher of ice water off the kitchen table, she quickly flung its contents onto the towel and skillet. The mixture of grease and water splashed everywhere, landing on her forearms, hands and on the nearby kitchen curtains. They burst into flames as well. “Oh, no!” cried out Rosie, horrified. She flung open the back door and dashed outside, leaving it ajar behind her.

She fled into the backyard, screaming hysterically, “My house is on fire! Help! Help! Can somebody help me?”

Next door, Mr. Nielsen, an avid gardener was busy weeding his flowerbeds. He heard Rosie barge out of her door screaming for help. He rose from his kneeling position and went over to her. “Take it easy, Rosie. You stay right there and I’ll go call the fire department.”

A few seconds later, the crew heard the tones of the klaxons.

"Station 51, fire at 13710 North Plainview, cross street Longwood."

The firemen dashed to the apparatus area and quickly donned their turnout coats and helmets.

“KMG-365,” Captain Stanley radioed the dispatcher. He jumped into the engine and the two vehicles left the station with their sirens blaring.

When they arrived at the scene a man and woman were waiting at the curb. The woman rushed to the captain’s side. “There’s a fire in my kitchen!” She told him, starting to panic again, “Can you save my house?”

Stanley asked, “Is anyone else in there?”

“No, I live alone,” she answered.

“Lopez, you and Kelly, take a reel line around to the back,” ordered Captain Stanley.

As the two of them sped around to the kitchen, Roy said to the woman, “ma’am, let’s take a look at you.” He helped her sit on the grass and noticed the burns on her arms and hands.

Johnny went to the squad and got their medical equipment.

“Don’t worry about me! Please, save my house!” she exclaimed in distress.

As he returned to her side, Johnny could see his co-workers had already doused the fire by the lack of smoke. “It’s okay, ma’am. The fire’s out,” Johnny informed her. A moment later, Marco dragged the hose back to the engine, passing Stoker as he headed to the back of the house with the evacuation fan. Johnny knew that Chet would already be starting the overhaul.

“Now, can you tell us what happened?” asked Johnny.

“I was cooking bacon and it started burning,” said Rosie as she grimaced, the pain starting to make itself known. “I grabbed a towel to move the skillet and it caught fire so I tossed a pitcher of water on it.”

“Lady, everybody knows you don’t mix grease and water. Why’d ya do that?” asked Johnny, incredulous.

“Gage, cut it out!” ordered Captain Stanley, having overheard Johnny’s remark. He glared at the paramedic.

“Sorry, Cap,” mumbled Johnny, under his breath. Turning his attention to Roy, he asked, “What do ya got?” He automatically opened the biophone and began to set up for transmission.

“She has second degree burns on her hands and lower arms, Johnny. Her BP is 110/80, pulse is 80 and the respirations are 16,” reported Roy as he began to apply burn protocols.

Johnny removed his green pen from his pocket and jotted down his notes as he keyed the handset and said, “Rampart, this is Squad 51.”

After a moment, Dr. Early responded with, “Go ahead, 51.”

“Rampart, we have a female, about 55. She has second degree burns on her hands and lower arms....” He continued with vitals and looked up to see Rosie in obvious pain. “Rampart, victim is also experiencing pain.”

It only took a moment for Dr. Early to return transmission with, “51, start an IV with normal saline TKO. Administer 5 mg MS, IV push and transport as soon as possible.”

“10-4, Rampart,” acknowledged Johnny. Roy was already reaching for the set-ups as Johnny returned the handset. The two worked smoothly to complete Early’s orders and got her ready for transport.

Once the patient was loaded into the ambulance, Johnny gathered up the debris and equipment and headed back to the squad. Stanley caught his elbow as he passed by saying, “Johnny, you were kinda rough on the lady, weren’t ya? Let’s talk about this when you get back to the station, okay?”

“Fine,” replied Johnny, irritated, pulling away from Captain Stanley.

“Johnny, are you okay?” continued Stanley, puzzled. Johnny didn’t usually blow up when he was dealing with the victims.

“I said I’m fine, Cap. Can I go now?”

“Yeah, get outta here,” answered Stanley reluctantly.

At the hospital, Roy entered Treatment Room 4 with his patient. Dr. Early was waiting for them. “Any change in her condition, Roy?” queried Early.

“No, Doc,” responded Roy. After hanging up the IV bag, he turned to Rosie and said, “Ma’am, they will take good care of you here.” He pushed open the door and strolled to the nurses’ station.

“Seen Johnny?” asked Roy as he approached Dixie.

“Yeah, he’s wandering around here, somewhere,” said Dixie. “Roy, how’s he doing?”

“Dixie, I wish I could tell you. He’s clammed up,” said Roy a little sadly. “He won’t talk about it.”

“Give him time, Roy,” said Dixie.

“I know, Dixie. It’s just... well...,” said Roy, at a loss.

“Is there a problem?” asked Dixie, looking concerned.

“I hope not. But, he kinda lost it on our last call…,” he broke off abruptly as he spotted Johnny.

“Catch ya later, Dixie,” he called as he went to join his partner.

The men rode in an uncomfortable silence on the way back to the station. Johnny climbed out of the squad, slamming the door behind him and headed to the locker room. Roy went looking for the captain.

“Cap, can I talk to you for a minute?” asked Roy.

“Sure thing, Roy. Let’s go to my office,” said Stanley, leading the way. After both men were in the room, Roy quietly shut the door.

“Go ahead,” said Stanley, settling into his chair, waiting for Roy to begin. “That run we had this morning? It was a bad one.”

“What happened?” asked Stanley as he looked up at the paramedic standing in front of him.

“Well, when we arrived at the scene...,” said Roy. He paused then sighed as he admitted, “the victim was someone Johnny knew really well.”

“How’s his friend doing?”

“Cap, he didn’t make it. Johnny’s taking it really hard and he broke the news to the guy’s wife, too.”

“I see,” remarked Stanley, scrunching his bushy eyebrows together as he mulled over all the information Roy had just given him.

“Should I send him home, Roy?” asked Stanley, tapping the fingertips on both his hands together, a gesture he often made when he was deep in thought.

“Cap, I’m not sure what to tell you. I just don’t know,” admitted Roy, shaking his head uncertainly. He reached for the door handle.

“Roy, lemme know one way or the other, okay?” said Stanley as he started to rise from his chair.

“I will, Cap,” promised Roy.

“And, Roy? Thanks.”

“Yeah, Cap. I knew you’d wanna know,” said Roy smiling slightly to take the edge of seriousness of their conversation.

Roy found Johnny in the locker room, sitting on the bench. He looked lost in thought. “You okay, Johnny?” asked Roy as he studied Johnny’s grim, wan face.

“Yeah, Roy. Let’s get back to work,” said Johnny sighing heavily as if trying to shake a heavy weight off his shoulders. He rose from the bench and moved slowly toward the door.

“Are you sure, Johnny? The captain can get a replacement to fill in for you....”

“Roy, drop it! I said I’m okay!” said Johnny, exasperated. “Besides, Cap told us at roll call today all the shifts were short staffed.”

“Johnny...,” began Roy.

“Roy, I need to work right now. I need to be around people,” he said quietly, beginning to pace back and forth.

“Johnny, I told Cap about Drew,” said Roy, leaning against a locker and watching his friend.

“Huh? What’d ya say, Roy?” asked Johnny as he paused in his pacing and glanced at his partner.

“I said, I told Cap about Drew,” repeated Roy patiently. He watched Johnny stop when he realized what Roy just said.

“Thanks, Roy. Does he still wanna talk to me?”

“I dunno, Johnny. He didn’t say.”

“Oh,” replied Johnny, turning his back to him.

Roy waited to see if his partner had anything else to say. He shifted to a more comfortable position and glanced at his watch. “Man, I’m hungry! Let’s go have some lunch.”

“I’m not hungry,” Johnny told him.

“Well, come on anyway. You just told me you wanted to be around people,” said Roy simply.

Johnny followed him, torn between needing to be around people and fearing the conversations that generally arose around the table. He didn’t know if he could handle it.

The two entered a quiet, somber room. Captain Stanley had just notified the rest of the crew about Johnny’s friend.

“Johnny, I’m really sorry about...,” began Marco.

“Thanks, Marco, but let’s not talk about it. Okay, guys?” said Johnny pleadingly.

“All right, then, let’s dig in,” said Stanley, rubbing his hands together briskly.

“Johnny, want a burger?” asked Chet, passing the platter to him.

“Huh? No, thanks.”

“How ‘bout some french fries, Johnny?” asked Mike equally nonchalantly.

“No, I have enough right here,” replied Johnny.

All eyes turned to Johnny’s clean, empty plate, but no one said anything.

After lunch, Chet tapped Johnny on the shoulder and asked, “I’ll wash and you dry? Deal?”

“Wha...?” asked Johnny, caught in his own thoughts. “Uh, you dry and I’ll wash? I guess.”

“Whatever,” replied Chet, not making an issue over who did what.

The two firefighters were alone in the kitchen, but Johnny didn’t notice. He simply filled the sink with soapsuds and started washing the plates.

“Johnny, what was your friend’s name?” asked Chet trying to keep the concern out of his voice. He wasn’t too successful.

“Drew. Drew Burke,” Johnny told him automatically.

“So, how long did you know Drew? I don’t remember you talking about him before,” continued Chet.

“About three yea...,” Johnny’s voice caught as a well of emotion washed over him. Without thinking, he stepped away from the sink still gripping a dish and water sprayed everywhere. Battling for control, he took a quick, deep breath and thrust the plate back in the water. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said.

While he was gone, Roy came into the kitchen and helped Chet clean up the water spills. He silently started washing the dishes.

When Johnny returned and saw he wasn’t needed, he went looking for someplace to be alone. The dorm was empty. He sank down onto his bed and buried his head in his hands. The vision of Pam’s face when he broke the news of Drew’s death swam in front of his face. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Just then the tones sounded.

“Squad 51, unknown type rescue at 14423 South Roland, cross street Citrus, timeout 17:13.”

Swallowing his emotions, Johnny ran to the squad. He and Roy hustled into their helmets and sped off to the rescue. When they arrived a distraught mother approached the two men. “Please hurry, my son is stuck in the tree!”

“Is he injured, ma’am?” asked Roy.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said as she led them into her backyard. “He’s just too scared to come down.”

“Hi there! What’s yer name?” called Johnny up into the tree.

“Billy. Billy Jones,” came the reply.

“Well, Billy Jones, are you hurt anywhere?” asked Roy.

“Naw, I’m just too skeered to come down. Can you help me?”

“We’ll be up in just a minute. You just stay there, okay?” Johnny stopped gazing at the seven-year-old boy and turned to Roy, “looks to me like he’s about 15 feet up, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” agreed Roy. “Look, I’m going to ask Dispatch to send out the engine. We need their ladder.”

“Sure, Roy,” said Johnny. He pivoted back towards the tree and said, “Hey, Billy. How would you like to see a fire truck close up?”

“Wow! That would be really neat!” yelled Billy excitedly from his perch.

“But you gotta make me a promise first, okay?” said Johnny.

“What is it?”

“You won’t move until the fire truck gets here and someone climbs up to you. Is it a deal?” asked Johnny.

“Okay,” agreed Billy.

Roy returned to Johnny’s side. “How’s Billy doing?”

“Sitting tight. I promised him he could see the engine up close once we got him down,” said Johnny with a grin.

“Bribery will work every time.”

Soon, they heard the engine pull up out front and a moment later, Captain Stanley came walking through the side gate with Kelly and Lopez close behind.

“What do we have, Roy?” asked Stanley.

“Cap, we’ve got a young boy who climbed a tree and can’t get down.”

“Marco, Chet, get the ladder,” ordered Stanley.

“I’ll go up, Cap,” Marco announced as they positioned the ladder. He quickly ascended the ladder and grasped Billy. He helped and handed him to Johnny who was waiting with outstretched arms.

“You’re fine, Billy. I’ve got ya. There, you’re almost touching the ground,” said Johnny reassuringly. “Let’s take a look at you. You sure you aren’t hurt?”

“Naw, I’m fine. Can I see the fire truck now?” asked Billy impatiently.

“In just a second, I wanna make sure you are okay.” Johnny checked his limbs and pulse.

“Well, Billy. You seem to be all right but you got kinda dirty up there, didn’t ya?” said Johnny. He tweaked Billy’s nose.

“Oh no, I was already dirty ‘fore I went up,” he replied proudly. Going up to his mother he said, “See, Mom, I told ya I’d be okay!”

“Oh, Billy!” exclaimed his mother, hugging him tightly.

“Mom!!!” retorted Billy, embarrassed.

“Why did ya climb the tree, Billy?” asked Roy curiously.

“Well, mister. My dad said he was gonna build me a tree house and I wanted to let him know how high to build it,” said Billy matter of factly.

“Do you still want a tree house?” asked Chet with great interest.

“Oh, yeah! Just not quite that high!” answered Billy eagerly. “Now can I go see the fire truck?”

Stanley looked at the two paramedics, waiting for more information.

“Uh, Cap. I kinda promised him we would let him take a really good look at the engine if he stayed put until we got him down,” said Johnny, looking at the ground, avoiding the captain’s eyes.

“I see, Johnny. Well, come on Billy. Lemme show you the engine,” said Captain Stanley, putting an arm around the boy and guiding him to the engine.

“Thank you both so much!” said Mrs. Jones gratefully.

“That’s what we’re here for, ma’am,” replied Roy. He realized she looked pale and was swaying slightly.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” asked Roy, concerned. He grabbed her elbow to steady her.

“I’ll go get the equipment,” said Johnny as he darted to the squad.

“What’s up, John?” The captain questioned the paramedic.

“I’m not sure, the lady might need our help. Would you keep Billy occupied?”

Nodding in understanding, Stanley answered, “sure.”

While Johnny was at the squad, Roy assisted the lady to the ground. He took her pulse and respirations, which were normal. As Roy started to examine her, he realized her stomach was slightly swelled. “Ma’am, are you pregnant?”

“Shhhhh, yes,” she whispered, turning her head to make certain Billy wasn’t around. “My husband and I haven’t told our son yet.”

“Oh,” said Roy. “Mrs. Jones, your color is much better. How are you feeling now?”

Johnny returned, setting the equipment down and Roy reached for the BP cuff.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she informed him. “I think I was just so relieved to have Billy back on the ground that I felt overwhelmed.”

“Well, I’d like to take your blood pressure, since we’re here.” Roy placed the cuff on her upper arm and inflated it. Getting a reading, he nodded. “Yes, it’s normal. And you are sure you’re feeling all right?”

“What’s up, Roy?” Johnny wanted to know.

“All her vitals are normal.” He lowered his voice, “she doesn’t want her son to know she’s pregnant.”

“Oh,” Johnny responded. “You want me to call it in?”

“I don’t think so, Johnny.”

“Ma’am, why don’t you sit up for a minute and see how you feel?” Roy suggested, helping her. “How do you feel now?”

“To be honest, embarrassed,” she said. “I felt so helpless when Billy was up in the tree.”

“Mrs. Jones, you seem to be all right. I don’t think we will need to take you to the hospital but I want your promise you will contact your doctor about what happened just now. Okay?”

“Yes, I will, once you leave. Again, thank you so much,” she said fervently.

“That’s what we are here for,” Johnny told her graciously. The two paramedics helped her stand up.

Billy marched proudly up to his mother. He wore Chet’s helmet and was totally enveloped in Marco’s turnout coat. Chet and Marco flanked him. Shoving the helmet out of his eyes, he peered up at his mother, “don’t these fit great, Mom?”

“They sure do, Billy. Now, thank all these nice firemen and let’s go inside and clean you up.”

The captain moved toward the two paramedics, “Everything all right here?”

“Yeah Cap, we can go now.”

Billy removed the firefighters’ garb and gave each man a hearty handshake, “Thanks!”

“You are very welcome, Billy,” replied Captain Stanley on behalf of the crew. “Let’s go back to the station.”

In a very short time, the six men were back in their quarters, leaving their respective vehicles and dispersing to various parts of the station. Chet, Marco and Mike marched into the kitchen.

“Mike, what’s for dinner tonight?” Chet inquired as Mike washed his hands.

“Spaghetti,” replied the man of few words.

“Need any help?” offered Marco.

“Sure, go find the canned tomatoes,” asked Mike he stooped in front of the open refrigerator.

In his office, Stanley pondered whether to confront Johnny about the incident earlier in the day. On their last run, Johnny performed in his usual professional manner. He sighed, put his arms behind his head and lifted his feet onto his desk.

Roy went to use the phone in the dorm. Driving back to the station, he had had an idea and he wanted to see what Joanne thought of it. He dialed his home number.

“Hi, honey. It’s Roy,” his voice took on the different timber that men use when speaking to the love of their life. “I’m okay, but I’m worried about Johnny. Could I ask him to come home with me for breakfast? I’m not sure if he’ll accept but I’d like to give the offer. Thanks, honey, you’re the best.” Hanging up, he went in search of his best friend deciding how to issue the invitation.

While everyone else was occupied Johnny had slipped outside behind the station. He was leaning against the brick building, staring unseeingly at the cloudy sky. The first run of the day still haunted him. “Oh, Drew,” he thought to himself. “What am I gonna do? Are you really gone? What happens to Pam now?” His brain was moving in too many directions at the same time. He felt confused, discouraged and weighed down.

Roy, after searching the station, pushed open the back door and spotted Johnny. He walked up to him and said, “Johnny, can I ask you a question?”

Startled, Johnny jumped slightly, “Huh? What Roy?”

“Johnny, are you okay?” Roy reached out to touch his friend, but drew back, not sure how he would respond.

“Roy, I dunno. Every time I’m by myself I start thinking about Drew and, and, I’m just all mixed up at the moment.”

“Well, I’m here, Johnny,” said Roy.

“Yeah, Roy. I know that.”

“Johnny, would you like to come over to the house after our shift for breakfast?” asked Roy.

“Is it okay with Joanne?”

Smiling slightly, he replied, “Yeah, I called her first.”

Giving the invitation serious consideration Johnny answered, “Roy, I just don’t know. Can I decide later?”

“No problem,” he reached for the door to head back into the station. Automatically, Johnny followed him. Roy headed to the kitchen. Inhaling deeply he said to Mike, “Spaghetti? Mike, you make the best spaghetti.”

“Thanks, Roy,” said Mike from the sink as he drained the pasta.

While Roy conversed with Mike, Johnny plopped down onto the sofa. He still looked dazed. Marco, Chet and Mike all looked at Roy, who shrugged his shoulders, not sure what to say.

“Johnny,” Mike said quietly, “could you let Cap know supper is ready?”

“What?” said Johnny as he mentally returned to the kitchen. Mike’s request sank in. Sitting up, he yelled, “Cap, dinner!!!”

“I coulda done that!” Chet complained.

“Let’s eat,” said Captain Stanley as he entered the room. “C’mon over to the table, John.”

Rising from the couch, Johnny went to an empty place setting and dropped into a chair.

Mike put the spaghetti on the table and seated himself. The men started to dig in, all except for Johnny who made no effort to serve himself any food.

“Here ya go, Pal,” said Stanley, serving Johnny a healthy portion of the pasta. “Dig in.”

“Cap, I’m really not hungry,” Johnny informed him.

“John, try. We all know you skipped lunch,” said Stanley.

“All right,” said Johnny reluctantly, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. He chewed the tasteless food quickly. He gulped his glass of milk and forced three more bites into his mouth and bolted from the table.

“Roy?” asked Stanley simply but his body language said, “What do you think?”

“Cap, let’s give him a few minutes,” suggested Roy. “I’ll check on him then.”

The solemn group continued eating until Chet questioned, “So, which did come first? The chicken or the egg?”

Everyone groaned. Marco blurted out, “Chet, we don’t wanna discuss anything right now!”

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood, guys,” Chet said whiningly.

They were interrupted by the tones, followed by, “Station 51, traffic accident at Danes and Chandler. Everyone darted to the apparatus area.

“KMG-365,” acknowledged Captain Stanley and scurried to his spot on the engine.

As he drove, Roy noticed Johnny sitting stiffly next to him.

“Are you okay?”

“Man, I wish everybody would quit asking me if I’m okay! Yes, I’m okay!” replied Johnny angrily. He turned his head away from Roy and gazed out the passenger window.

Roy pulled up close to the accident scene and jumped out of the squad. Johnny shut his door and opened the bays of the vehicle. He reached for the drug box and biophone. Steeling himself, he moved toward the automobiles. It appeared a blue coupe had turned left into the path of the oncoming traffic, striking a white sedan. It would take some effort to remove the people trapped inside.

“Johnny, I’ll take the blue car. You take the white one,” said Roy.

“Okay.” Johnny went to the passenger side of the white sedan and found the door jammed. “Marco, get me a crowbar, would ya?”

Marco sped to get the item. He returned quickly and jammed it into the doorframe. In a short time Marco wrenched the door open. Johnny slid onto the seat and reached for the victim, a man about twenty-five, the same age as Drew. Johnny blinked hard, trying to concentrate on the man in front of him.

“Hi, my name is Johnny Gage. I’m a paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department,” said Johnny. He reached for his penlight and started checking the victim’s pupils as he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Andrew Fuller,” replied the man. “Please call me Andy.”

At the mention of the victim’s name, Johnny blanched. Struggling to control himself he asked, “Ok, Andy, are you hurt anywhere?”

“No. Well, I’m sure I’ll have bruises, but I don’t think I’m hurt.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I’m gonna check you out anyway,” Johnny told him, grasping his wrist to take his pulse. He got a blood pressure reading and respirations. All were within the normal range. Then he carefully inspected him for broken bones or any other signs of injury. “Okay, you seem fine. We’ll get you out in a minute.” He slid out of the car and spotted Captain Stanley.

“How’s he doing, Johnny?” Stanley waited, wanting a report.

“All his vitals are normal, Cap, but he’s pinned in there pretty good. I’d like to take him in as a precaution.”

“Okay, Johnny. We’ll get him out. Why don’t you go help Roy,” said Stanley.

“Okay, Cap,” said Johnny. He hesitated a moment before adding, “And, Cap? His name is Drew, I mean, Andy,” he finished quickly. Stanley’s troubled eyes followed the dark-haired paramedic.

“Hey Roy, whatcha got?” asked Johnny of his partner, who was leaning into the blue coupe.

“Johnny, I have a woman about 50 who has a fractured left arm and may have whiplash.”

“Okay, Roy. Here’s a splint and a cervical collar,” said Johnny as he handed them to him.

“Johnny, I’ll have the vitals in a second. How’s your victim?”

“Seems to be all right, but I’d like to transport him just in case,” said Johnny. He opened up the biophone on the roof of the car.

“Johnny, her blood pressure is 140/90. Her pulse is 96 and her respirations are 24,” came the voice from the inside of the car.

After writing down the vitals, Johnny began his transmission with, “Rampart, this is Squad 51.”

“Go ahead, 51,” Brackett’s voice answered.

“Rampart, we have an automobile accident with two victims. The first is a male, 25 years old, pulse is 88, respirations 20, blood pressure is 124/84 and pupils are equal and reactive. No apparent injuries. Victim two is a 50 years old female with a broken left arm. She may also have whiplash. We have already applied a splint and a cervical collar. Vitals are blood pressure 140/90, pulse is 96 and respirations are 24.”

“51, please stand by, 36 has a heart attack,” requested Dr. Brackett.

“I don’t believe this!” said Johnny in dismay. “Roy, this is what happened this morning with Drew!”

“Johnny, neither of our victims has a life threatening injury. A heart attack needs to take priority,” said Roy consolingly.

“Yeah, I know, but,” he began. He faltered as he searched for the right words to express himself.

“51, start an IV with normal saline on victim two. Transport both victims as soon as possible,” ordered Dr. Brackett.

“10-4,” said Johnny.

Johnny boarded the ambulance after the victims were loaded and in a short time, the victims were in the capable hands of the hospital staff.

Johnny met Roy in the hall, “Roy, would you get the supplies this time? I’m gonna wait out in the squad.”

“Okay,” said Roy. He felt worried. It wasn’t like Johnny to wait outside at the hospital.

“Hi Roy, where’s Johnny?” asked Dixie.

“He’s waiting for me in the squad,” Roy told her.

“How’s he doing?” asked Dixie with concern.

“Dixie, I just don’t know,” he replied sadly. “He’s not himself today, that’s for sure. He wouldn’t eat lunch or dinner.”

“Really? Usually he eats everything in sight and asks for more,” she replied in surprise.

“I’m just not sure how to help him either. He keeps avoiding me,” Roy continued, sighing.

“You hang in there, Roy. Johnny knows you are there for him,” advised Dixie.

“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself,” he answered.

He picked up the handy talkie and started toward the exit, “Bye Dixie, catch you later.”

Roy and Johnny returned to the station. Everyone was engrossed in the most recent episode of “The Rookies.” When Johnny walked in, the cops in the scene were having a shoot out. Seeing two bodies hit the dirt, he fled from the room.

Out of the corner of his eye, the captain saw Johnny leave. He discretely left the room and looked for Johnny. He finally found him standing in front of his locker.

“Uh, Johnny, could we talk?”

“Huh? Oh, hi Cap,” answered Johnny.

“John, could we go to my office?”

“Sure, Cap. I know you wanted to talk to me about our earlier run,” said Johnny. He followed his captain into the office.

“Sit down, John,” said Stanley as he motioned to a chair. He closed the office door.

“I’m sorry, Cap. I shouldn’t have said...,” began Johnny as he tried to apologized. He had his head down, not wanting to meet Stanley’s gaze.

“I know, Johnny,” said Stanley, cutting him off. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” He stared thoughtfully at the young man before him. “John, I wanted to let you know I am very sorry about your friend.” He perched on the corner of his desk, his legs outstretched.

“Thanks, Cap,” said Johnny, raising his head.

“But John, I am concerned about how this is affecting you,” he said, looking directly into his eyes.

Johnny squirmed slightly, and answered guiltily, “Yeah, Cap.”

“It’s a tough situation to be in, John,” said Stanley. “I think we’ve all been there. Don’t let it eat you up.” He paused then said, “I know you’re trying your best to do a good job.... Well, just let me know if you want me to call in a replacement. You’ve certainly got some personal time on the books.”

“I will, Cap, I will,” John promised. “Can I go now?”

“Yeah, Johnny,” sighed the captain. He remained in his office, trying to determine how to assist the troubled man. He cared deeply about the young paramedic both as a professional and as a friend. It disturbed him to see him in such distress.

Johnny’s associates watched him roam from room to room for several hours. He flitted from area to area. Whenever someone came into his space he retreated to another location. Finally, it was time to turn in.

Johnny stretched out on his bunk, his left arm thrown across his face. Across from him, Roy stared at him thoughtfully. With mixed emotions, he rolled over and tried to fall asleep. He could hear Johnny tossing and turning. Finally, Johnny gave up the battle and slipped into his turnouts and treaded silently into the kitchen. He poured himself a cup of tepid coffee and dropped onto the couch.

After a few minutes, Chet came into the room. Several chairs were still in a semi-circle around the television. He chose one that gave him a view of Johnny and quietly sank into it. Chet looked intently at the paramedic without speaking for about ten minutes -- an amazing feat. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he cleared his throat and plunged in with a quiet, “Uh, Johnny?”

“What?” asked Johnny, now noticing someone else was in the room with him.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

There was a pause, and Johnny finally answered, “The run we just had.”

“What about it?” Chet wanted to know.

“I can’t talk about it right now,” Johnny said bluntly and fled. Chet returned to the dorm. About fifteen minutes later he heard Johnny creep in. At last, Johnny drifted off to sleep, but it was a restless, exhausting slumber.

Suddenly, the klaxons sounded.

“Station 51, Engine 36, house fire at 12329 North Egan, time out 02:32.”

The entire crew jumped into their turnouts and hustled out to their vehicles. When the men arrived at the scene, Captain Stanley quickly sized up the situation. The firefighters donned their air tanks and air masks as they waited for the captain’s instructions. As he began giving orders a man ran up to them yelling, “Help! My wife...,” he choked, unable to catch his breath as he stumbled into Roy who quickly reached out a hand to support him. He drew in a shaky breath and managed to get out, “... son... still in the house!”

Johnny raced to the squad to remove the oxygen. Roy guided the coughing man to the ground and Johnny placed the facemask on him. Roy adjusted the flow to six liters and began to evaluate him.

“Kelly, grab an inch and a half. Lopez, you and Gage, start looking for the wife and boy,” ordered Stanley. Johnny got up from his kneeling position and trotted off to join Marco.

A voice blared over the radios, “This is Engine 36. We’ve been involved in a traffic accident. Please send assistance to our location.”

“10-4, 36,” acknowledged dispatch. Stanley heard the tones sound. “Engine 16, in place of Engine 36. House fire at 12329 North Egan, time out 02:40.”

Within seconds, the captain heard the dispatcher’s voice, “Engine 51, Engine 36 has been delayed. Engine 16 has been dispatched to your location.” “10-4,” replied Captain Stanley.

The three firefighters vanished into the building. In a few moments, Marco and Johnny exited from the house, dragging a large woman between them.

“It’s gettin’ bad in there, Cap,” Johnny reported. “We didn’t find the kid yet either.”

“Okay. Lopez, I want you to grab another inch and a half to help cover the fire. DeSoto, you’re with me.”

“Cap, we looked everywhere on the first floor. He must be upstairs,” said Johnny, glancing up at Stanley as he began working on the woman.

“Where is that engine?” the captain grumbled to himself, needing more manpower. He hoisted an air bottle onto his back, adjusted his facemask and followed the other men into the burning building.

As Johnny knelt down next to the woman, Mike came up to him, carrying the oxygen from the engine. He took the unit from Mike and placed the mask on her face and regulated the flow. He started to check her out but her husband made it difficult because he was hovering over them. “Sir, she’s going to be all right,” he reassured him. “Sir, you need to keep that oxygen mask on. Here, why don’t you sit down next to your wife?” He finished making his assessment and grabbed the biophone. He contacted the hospital, “Rampart, this is Squad 51, we have a….”

A loud noise interrupted his transmission. He looked at the house. Part of the roof had collapsed. He heard additional cracks and groans as it continued to fall. His eyes were fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him. With a sinking feeling, he realized four of his closest friends were in that structure. The woman began to cough and come around. Piercing sirens echoed in the dark night as Engine 16 finally pulled up to the residence. Johnny heard Mike notifying dispatch, “this is Engine 51. We’ve had a roof collapse with men trapped at our location. Send a second alarm.”

“10-4, 51,” acknowledged the dispatcher.

Mike quickly gave the captain of 16 a report. “Four men including the Captain were in the house when we had the partial roof collapse. They were searching for a small boy...” he broke off as Chet and Marco backed hurriedly out of the building. Their hose was pointed upward, ineffectively cooling an untouched portion of the front porch as they dashed to escape from the intense heat. Just as they got a safe distance from the house, flashover occurred causing the windows on the lower floor to shatter. Tongues of fire darted out of the openings and illuminated the dark sky. Everyone stood there for a second, mesmerized by the sight.

After catching his breath, Chet went up to the captain, “We were on the first floor when the roof collapsed and took out one of our hoses. The Cap and DeSoto were upstairs hunting for the kid. The stairway’s gone.”

Johnny felt his stomach flip flop as he realized Roy and the captain were still in the building. He took several deep breaths. He wanted to join in the search for the trapped men but he knew he had to stay outside.

Johnny heard the captain of 16 communicating with dispatch. “We have a possible Code I times 2. Send another squad and another ambulance to 12329 North Egan.”

Turning his attention back to the scene, the captain of 16 said, “Kelly, pull another inch and a half and I’ll cover you and Lopez.”

Chet ran over to Engine 51 and grabbed another hose. He lugged it across the yard close to Marco, signaled Stoker to charge it and started shooting water onto the flames. The captain from 16 came up behind him and placed a supporting hand on his shoulder, helping him advance towards the house. A few moments later, Chet saw that the captain had repositioned himself and was now assisting Marco.

Two firefighters and the engineer from Engine 16 circled the house, looking for the best way to reach the second floor. The back of the house was engulfed in flames and the upper floor looked like it was about to fall in. They moved to the side of the house, which was still intact, and quickly propped a ladder up against the house, close to a second story window. As the engineer steadied the ladder, one of the men climbed up and pulled out his forcible entry tool. He broke the glass and used his gloved hands to remove a couple of stubborn jagged pieces. Then he vanished into the burning building. His partner ascended the ladder and waited for his colleague to return.

“51, go ahead,” came over the biophone, interrupting Johnny’s anxiety over what might have happened to the two men. He felt guilty for ignoring the homeowners.

“Rampart, we have two victims, both suffering from smoke inhalation, vitals to follow. And Rampart, we may have more victims.” His voice cracked but Johnny forced himself to continue, “we’ve had a roof collapse at our location. There may be three additional victims.”

At the other end of the line, Dr. Early and Dixie looked at each other with concern.

“Rampart, victim one is a 30 year old male. Vitals are: 136/90, pulse is 90 and respirations are 20. He is on six liters of oxygen. Victim two is a 28 year old female. Vitals are: blood pressure is 142/96, pulse is 110 and respirations are 24. She is also on six liters of oxygen. Victim two was unconscious for about five minutes. There are no burns on either victim.”

“Okay 51, start an IV of normal saline, TKO on victim two and transport both victims as soon as possible,” ordered Dr. Early.

“10-4 Rampart,” acknowledged Johnny. He reached into the drug box for the items he needed and started the IV.

While he was working, the men of 16 located Captain Stanley, Roy and the child. One of the firemen from Engine 16 quickly carried the boy down the ladder. Mike waited at the foot of the ladder and brought him over to the paramedic. Johnny began examining the little boy -- his frightened face stared up at him, gazing at the penlight Johnny clicked on. His father darted up and asked anxiously, “Is he okay?”

“I’m still checking him out but he should be fine,” said Johnny calmly.

Johnny sighed with relief as Squad 36 appeared. Pulling their gear out of the squad they ran up to Johnny. “Whatcha got?” One of them inquired.

“We have a man and woman who have smoke inhalation. They’re awaiting transport. I haven’t been able to take vitals yet on this five year-old boy. Looks like he’ll be okay, though,” said Johnny. He looked back towards the house and said, “There may be two more victims as well.”

Realizing that Johnny was referring to the men from 51, the one paramedic said, “John, we’ll take over here for you.”

“Thanks,” replied Johnny, returning his attention to the ladder propped outside the house.

He could see two firefighters slowly descending the ladder – one steadying the other. Johnny spotted the white stripe on the helmet and knew one of them was Captain Stanley. The fireman from 16 escorted the captain over to Johnny.

“Okay, Cap. Have a seat,” instructed Johnny. The captain was coughing as he dropped to the ground.

“Mike, would you go grab some more oxygen?” asked Johnny. Mike nodded and jogged over to Engine 16 and got theirs. He returned quickly and gave it to Johnny. Then, he sped off to assist the men of Engine 16. Johnny helped Cap remove his air tank. As he readied the oxygen, he kidded him, “Hey, Cap, I thought it was standard operating procedure to actually use your SCBA when you go into a burning building.”

Captain Stanley was too tired to joke around, “I was right next to the kid when the roof collapsed so I shared my air with him.” He continued to cough.

Johnny put the mask on Stanley’s face. While he was caring for the captain, Johnny spied Marco heading over to him with someone who caused him to breifly break out in a grin of relief. He was walking beside a dishelved, but seemingly in one piece, Roy.

“Good to see you back on the ground, Roy,” said Marco as he lent him a hand with his air bottle. “Thanks, Marco.” Roy told him gratefully.

“Phew! It got kinda hot in there.” Said Roy to no one in particular. Stanley nodded in silent agreement.

“Yeah, I bet,” said Johnny.

Roy started to remove his turnout coat, wincing slightly. “Guess a board grazed me when the roof collapsed.”

“Sit down, I’ll get to you in a second,” Johnny told him.

One of the paramedics from 36 approached Johnny, “want help?”

“Sure, would you take a look at Roy? Oh, he mighta hurt his shoulder. Check that out, too,” said Johnny.

Johnny took Captain Stanley’s blood pressure. It was 120/80. His pulse was 84 and his respirations were 16. He checked him over for any injuries. “Hurt anywhere, Cap?” asked Johnny.

“Naw, I figure I got a few bumps and bruises but that’s it,” said Stanley. “John, how’s the kid doin’?”

“Looks like he’ll be fine, Cap,” replied Johnny.

“And, Roy?”

“His pulse is 88, respirations are 20 and BP is 122/82. I think he just bruised his shoulder,” was the answer from the paramedic next to him. “Wanna call it in?”

“Yeah, I’ll do,” Johnny told him.

He reached over for the handset and keyed it. “Rampart, we have two victims. Both firefighters...,” began Johnny. He relayed all the vitals smoothly and efficiently -- there was no trace of his previous concern.

“51, transport both victims as soon as possible.” Dr. Early communicated to Johnny.

“10-4, Rampart,” acknowledged Johnny. As he put the receiver back on the biophone, two more engine crews arrived at the scene. 16’s captain barked his orders to the men – it was now time to “surround and drown” the fire. With the additional men at the scene, the flames of the fire were quickly subdued.

Out of the corner of his eye, Johnny saw the second ambulance approaching. He called over to the paramedics from Squad 36, “I’ll ride in with Roy and the cap.”

“Sure, Johnny. See ya at the hospital.”

“Mike, would ya come over here?” yelled Stanley, motioning to his engineer. He only coughed once.

“Yeah, Cap?” asked Mike as he squatting down in front of Stanley.

“You’re in charge. Notify headquarters you’re down a firefighter and a paramedic.”

“Will do, Cap. I’ll take care of it,” assured Mike. He briefly clapped the captain on the shoulder and headed back to the rig. It was time for mop-up.

“Ready, Cap?” Johnny grasped his arm and helped him board the ambulance. Roy was inside already, waiting for them.

The captain from 16 approached, “How are they, Gage?”

“Everybody’s gonna be okay, Captain,” he replied with great relief. Mike went over to the remaining crew for 51, “Chet, could you drive the squad in and wait for Johnny?”

“Sure, Mike.”

Chet headed over to the squad and got into the driver’s seat, ready to follow the ambulance.

Johnny looked over at his partner. He was so thankful he was okay. They exchanged glances, communicating their feelings without words.

After Captain Stanley and Roy arrived at the hospital and were taken to treatment rooms, Johnny stood waiting in the hall for a report. Now that he had a few moments to think, his mind raced, “What if they hadn’t found Roy and the captain in time? What if he had had to break the news to Joanne that Roy was gone?” He felt drained.

Chet found him standing in the hall, looking forlorn.

“Johnny, you okay?” asked Chet.

“Chet, we coulda lost them tonight. Do you realize that?” Johnny told him.

“Yeah Johnny, I know,” replied Chet, feeling the same way. He saw Dixie striding down the hall toward them.

“How are they?” asked Johnny.

“Oh, Roy and Hank just sustained some bumps and bruises. We’ll keep them here for observation for a few hours. The boy and mother will be admitted. The father’s fine,” she informed them, noticing the dark circles under Johnny’s eyes.

“Can I, uh, we, see Cap and Roy?” asked Johnny, wanting to reassure himself.

“Sure, Johnny, follow me.” She led the way and opened the door for them, ushering them into the treatment room.

“Hi Roy, Cap! Just checkin’ in before we head back,” said Johnny.

“We’re fine, Johnny,” said Roy confidently. “Are you okay?” Roy noticed Johnny’s exhausted face. Johnny simply nodded and gave Roy his trademarked lopsided grin. Roy wished he could talk to his partner, nut he knew he had to stay at the hospital. “Can I call ya later, Johnny?”

“Yeah, do,” answered Johnny.

“I guess we better head back to the station,” Chet glanced at his watch. “Would ya look at that, we only have a coupla hours left of our shift.”

“See ya later!” Johnny said over his shoulder as they left the room.

Chet sauntered down the hall to the exit while Johnny trudged behind him, the exhaustion of the shift catching up with him. “Chet?”

“What, Johnny?” said Chet as he stopped abruptly and Johnny barely avoided plowing into him.

“Chet, would you drive?”

“Sure,” Chet replied, making no comment.

Neither man spoke on the return to the station -- each lost in their thoughts. Chet backed the squad into the apparatus bay and then turned off the engine. “Man, I need a shower!”

“Huh?” said Johnny. “Oh, okay.” Johnny stood by the squad for a moment. He began to dwell on Drew’s death and felt devastated. He stumbled into the dorm.

Chet went into the locker room and quickly undressed. He adjusted the temperature of the water and climbed into the shower. Grabbing the bar of soap, he created a sudsy foam and lathered up, removing all the soot and grime. After a minute he stuck his head under the water, and let the spray rush over him. The hot water invigorated him. Finally, he turned off the faucet and tossed his head in the air. Water droplets flew everywhere. He opened the stall door, and picked up the towel he had left on the floor near the shower. He dried off in the stall and wrapped the towel around his waist. Then he trotted over to his locker and put on a fresh uniform. He slammed his locker shut and wandered into the kitchen to see if Marco had made a fresh pot of coffee.

“Hey, Chet. I see you got a shower, too,” said Marco, turning away from the stove and looking at his comrade. He was sautéing some onions.

“Yeah, feels good to get cleaned up,” said Chet.

“Uh, Chet. Where’s your badge?” asked Marco pointing a spoon at the conspicuous blank spot on his uniform.

“Oh, man! I better go get it!” exclaimed Chet as he headed for the locker room.

He marched into the room but stopped mid-stride when he saw Johnny. Johnny had left the dorm looking for solace in the locker room. The paramedic stood with his head down, leaning into his locker. He didn’t notice Chet.

After deliberating for a moment Chet moved toward his locker. “Guess what? I forgot my badge, again! Can you believe that?” Chet said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

At the sound of footsteps, Johnny lifted his head. Chet could read the agony on his face before Johnny turned away. “Huh? What’d ya say, Chet?” Johnny said, attempting to disguise his lack of attention.

“I said, I guess...,” Chet repeated, “oh, forget what I said. It wasn’t important.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll take your word for it,” Johnny returned.

“Johnny...,” Chet continued. “can we talk seriously for a minute here?”

“About what, Chet?” Johnny replied wearily.

“About Drew,” Chet said compassionately.

“Leave me alone, Chet!” He leaned over and grabbed his t-shirt. It was lying on the bench near him. He balled it up and flung it into his locker.

“No way, Pal!” Chet took a deep breath to calm down. He wanted his words to be heard. “You don’t have to talk, John. Just listen…. The day after I turned 16 my dad was driving home from work. Someone plowed into him at a stop sign. The impact shoved him into a telephone pole.”

“I’m sorry Chet, I didn’t know.”

Chet continued, lost in his own world, “The car started leaking gas and some bystanders pulled my dad outta the car. He was injured pretty badly. The firemen came and put out the fire but they only had oxygen and blankets for him. If there had been paramedics then, I just don’t know. He mighta made it.”

“Well, the paramedics didn’t help Drew today!” replied Johnny bitterly.

“Johnny, you and I both know you and Roy make a difference. But, some of ‘em are just too critically injured.” He paused for a minute. “Johnny, what I’m trying to say is I know what it’s like to lose someone. It changes you forever. But, you gotta learn to deal with it and a big part of handling it is to talk about it.”

“I don’t know, Chet. I feel so... wounded or... or... something.”

“Johnny, after my dad died, my grandfather withdrew into himself and built this huge wall that no one could get through. He wouldn’t talk much, he stopped eating and he slept all the time.”

“It sounds like he was depressed, Chet.”

“Yeah, we finally figured that out. But by then, he had just given up. He died six months after my dad died.”

“Chet, that musta been tough,” said Johnny empathetically.

“Yeah,” he sighed heavily, “it was. But, you know what happened? My mom had a meeting with me and my sister and my brother. She said, ‘listen to me! We are gonna talk. We are gonna cry and we are gonna laugh!’”

Chet had Johnny’s full attention now.

“And?”

“We did. Oh, don’t get me wrong. We still had rough times but mom kept talking and sometimes we wrote stuff down, and sometimes we yelled at each other but we didn’t give up,” said Chet.

“Well, thanks for sharing with me, Chet but right now I feel overwhelmed.... “ Suddenly, words came flooding out, “one minute I’m angry at Drew for dying. Then I’m angry at me for not saving him. And then I start blaming everyone else: Roy, and the other paramedics for tying up our communication with Rampart and Doc Brackett. Then, I feel like this has been a horrible nightmare and I’ll wake up and everything will be fine. I just can’t believe Drew is dead and I feel so guilty I hadn’t spent time with him and Pam lately!” Johnny rubbed his temples and sighed heavily.

“Buddy, you’re describing grief.”

“Chet, when I thought tonight Roy and Cap mighta died. I dunno…. I felt sick to my stomach. I thought I was gonna throw up.”

“Come on, Johnny. It’s okay to let it out.”

“I don’t know if I can, Chet!” With that, he stood up and reached into his locker picking up the t-shirt he had thrown into it. He surreptitiously rubbed his eyes as he leaned into the open locker. Chet reached over and briefly grabbed his shoulder, silently showing his support. He made his way to his locker to retrieve his elusive badge.

As Chet started to leave the room, he heard Johnny utter from inside his locker, “thanks, Chet.”

Turning back into the room, Chet told him, “Johnny, I know it’s hard to believe right now, but good will come outta this.”

“That is hard to believe, Chet,” he replied, looking at him.

“Johnny, I made a vow to myself to try to help other people. Believe me, I’m no expert on this stuff but I have been through it and I’ve made it. You can, too.”

“I dunno, Chet. Right now that’s really hard to believe,” Johnny told him in disbelief.

“’Member I said my mom told us we needed to laugh?” asked Chet.

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, one day about 7 months after my dad died we were sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves. All of a sudden, my mom said, ‘watch out everybody, The Phantom lurks!’ We all sorta looked at her goofy and then we started to look around the house for The Phantom. We musta looked really funny, ‘cause she burst into laughter. Then we all started rolling. Man, it felt great!”

“You mean your mom invented ‘The Phantom?’” ask Johnny incredulously.

“Yeah, Johnny. From then on, The Phantom kept ‘appearing.’ Sometimes there was a note saying ‘The Phantom’ was here. Other times there were water bombs. I never knew laughter could be so helpful until The Phantom showed up.”

“Well, The Phantom really breaks up the routine here at the station,” said Johnny impishly.

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I, uh, I mean, The Phantom showed up here,” said Chet. “But seriously, Johnny. I mean it. I wanna help ya out.”

“Really Chet? I dunno. I don’t want ya telling all the guys what I say to you. Since we work together, don’t ya think everyone would notice the change in our, uh, relationship?” said Johnny, half sarcastically.

“Johnny, I can keep a secret,” said Chet seriously. “Did ya know about my dad before today?”

“Well, no,” admitted Johnny.

“Ya gotta trust me on this. I DO wanna help,” said Chet sincerely.

“I’m still not sure, Chet.”

“Look, Johnny. I already said I’m no expert but I know it helps to have someone to talk to. Tell ya what, if we’re at the station and you want us to talk about this say, ‘Anybody seen The Phantom hanging around?’” Johnny was listening intently. “And Johnny, if I wanna sorta check on you and see how you’re doing I’ll say, ‘Johnny, tell me about those anthropologists coming to study you at the reservation.’”

“Yeah, that should work, everyone flees when I start talkin’ about life on the reservation,” said Johnny, smiling.

“You want me to write these down for ya, Johnny?”

“NO, I can remember them. Jeez, Chet! My mind isn’t gone!” exclaimed Johnny.

“Okay, pal. Cool it.” Chet raised his hands to defend himself. “I was just trying to help ya out.”

“I know, sorry Chet,” apologized Johnny.

The odors emanating from the kitchen interrupted Chet’s train of thought. Sniffing, he commented, “hey, whatever Marco’s cookin’ smells great!”

“Yeah, it does!” replied Johnny, realizing he was starving.

“Let’s go eat!” Chet exclaimed, leading the way to the kitchen. Johnny eagerly followed him.

Barging through the door, Johnny greeted Marco, “Smells great! What is it?”

“I thought I’d make breakfast burritos,” Marco told him.

“What’s a breakfast burrito?” asked Chet, peering into the skillet.

“It’s eggs, churizo, cheese and salsa rolled up into a big flour tortilla. I like to add onions, too,” said Marco.

“Sounds great, Marco!” said Chet.

“Want one?” asked Marco, reaching for the tortillas.

“Let me grab a plate, Marco,” said Johnny, opening a cupboard door.

“Thish ish really good,” complimented Johnny around a full mouth.

“Yeah, it’s great, Marco!” said Chet. “You think we should share with Mike?”

“Guys, would you be willing to do the dishes?” asked Marco as he headed to the captain’s office where Mike was filling in the log. He had a nice fat burrito on a plate just the right size for a hungry engineer.

“Sure thing!” said Johnny as he took another huge bite.

After cleaning up the kitchen, doing the dishes, and exchanging pleasantries with the next shift, the two men headed into the locker room to change into their street clothes. They left the station and walked together towards their cars.

“Uh, Chet, ‘Anybody seen The Phantom hanging around?’” Johnny said slowly.

“What, Johnny?” asked Chet. He stopped dead and looked at Johnny. “Are you saying you wanna talk?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Johnny said, somewhat sheepishly.

“Why don’t we do it over a cup of coffee, Johnny.”

“You buying, Chet? Can I have a jelly donut too?”

Chet pulled out his wallet and checked the contents. With a huge grin, he said to Johnny, “Yeah, I can afford 2 cups of coffee and 2 jelly donuts!”

“That’s great, Chet! I have just the spot for 2 jelly donuts, right here.” He patted his belly.

“Johnny, I didn’t mean I was gonna buy 2 donuts for you!” After a brief pause Chet continued, “Never mind. We’ll figure it out when we get there! Let’s go, buddy!”

Author’s note: Grief is a slow, painful process. But it doesn’t have to conquer you. It can enrich your life. Find someone who will listen to you. Talk about it.

Guest Dispatchers                     Stories by Marty P.